


search myself; want you to find me

by cori_the_bloody



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: F/M, I would call this a PWP, One Shot, Phone Sex, Sexting, but it's more like mild porn with mild plot, episode insert, if you will, smutty character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 01:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17951159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cori_the_bloody/pseuds/cori_the_bloody
Summary: If you’re gonna be so critical, you give it a try. Let’s see your best erotic similes.A take on r/n's 3.07 sexting





	search myself; want you to find me

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Bethany! I've really put you to work this past month, huh? Anyway, you're a gem.
> 
> Long ago, I received the prompt rethaniel + "things you said with too many miles between us" on tumblr. Very recently, I decided to use that as an excuse to throw this together as a potential way the sexting from 3.07 could have gone. Enjoy!

Nathaniel grins at Rebecca’s last text—hahahesjdfjjhkg—and rests his hand low on his stomach, absentmindedly stroking the strip of coarse hairs there as he considers his next move.

After a moment, he types out a message slowly and carefully with his left thumb.

_Am I to infer that means you’re touching yourself?_

Rebecca’s response is nearly immediate: _Com e on dude is that really the question you wanna ask right now_

He notices the lack of punctuation and the urgency behind it makes his pulse surge.

Nathaniel: _How wet are you?_

Rebecca: _That s bet er_

Nathaniel: _Well?_

Rebecca: _It’s lik a bog down here_

“Gross,” Nathaniel says, a knee-jerk reaction, and sets his phone down on his chest for a second. No sooner than he does, he pictures Rebecca giggling to herself over her own too-evocative simile and smiles, picking his phone back up again.

Nathaniel: _Could we maybe think critically about our use of creative language here?_

As soon as he hits send, a message comes in from Rebecca.

_How hard are you?_

And then she sends the emoji of the face with its tongue sticking out in response to his complaining.

He rolls his eyes and uses both hands to type out: _I was harder before you compared your vagina to a swamp._

Rebecca: _Ok I can do better._

He waits, and with each passing minute he can feel his heart rate slowing and his stomach filling with icy dread.

He’s an idiot, a complete fucking idiot. He’d ruined the mood and, god, probably alienated her by initiating this in the first place when she’d said she wasn’t sure if sex was on the table for her. Because she’s recovering from a suicide attempt.

Fuck, he’s an asshole.

An asshole who hasn’t thought of anything except the look on her face when she’d said she’d love to have sex with him again, the sound of her laughter ringing through that house, the way she’d smelled heady right in the crook of her neck since earlier that day.

He’s thinking about all that now, and the clarity of her, so alive in all his senses, can’t exist alongside regret.

His phone buzzes with an incoming text.

It takes him a moment to make sense of the picture, dark and grainy as it is, but he eventually works out that it’s mostly Rebecca’s shoulder, the neck of her sweater pushed down over her upper arm to reveal her bra and the swell of her breast. In the corner, he can just see the shape of her mouth, can just tell that she’s biting her lower lip.

He raises his eyebrows, and another text comes in.

_My boobs are like fluffy, lumpy couch cushions: ready to accept your head for a peaceful slumber._

So that’s how she wants to play it, huh?

_Is that supposed to be tantalizing?_

Rebecca: _You’re telling me it isn’t?_

Nathaniel: _Lumpy is a bit of a mood killer._

Rebecca: _If you’re gonna be so critical, you give it a try. Let’s see your best erotic similes._

Nathaniel thinks for a second, grins to himself, and then feels his heart start to pound in his ears as he types his response.

_My cock is as tall and hard as a sequoia._

Rebecca takes a beat to send her response.

_Thats cheating_

Again, the lack of punctuation tells Nathaniel a story. He shifts his phone back to his left hand and returns his right to his stomach.

Nathaniel: _But it’s working._

Rebecca: _Shut up_

Nathaniel: _Is that not the point here?_

Rebecca: _Mm_

Nathaniel: _Care you share with the class what that means?_

Rebecca: _Just imagining what your voice sounds like when it’s right in my ear_

Rebecca: _and how when I touch you you make the most satisfying noises_

Nathaniel swallows a whimper as he reads the messages, and that only makes him think about how Rebecca might react if he’d let the noise go freely, if she were here. He closes his eyes for a second, trails his fingers along the length of himself…feels his pulse beat in his ears and his fingertips and the veins in his cock as he imagines Rebecca’s hands instead.

He eagerly opens his eyes when he feels his phone vibrate.

Rebecca: _tell me what you’d say_

Nathaniel swallows hard and feels a gentle wave of chagrin at the earnestness of his response, but he’s lost enough in the flood of dopamine that the ache of it is almost indistinguishable from the ache of want.

Nathaniel: _I feel like I’m being exposed to a live wire wherever you touch me._

Nathaniel: _You throw off sparks Rebecca._

Rebecca: _Ok you win you egt top marks_

He smiles.

Nathaniel: _Nothing sexier than a win_.

He waits a moment before adding. _How are we doing?_

A full minute slinks by as Nathaniel watches the typing bubbles cycle and continues to tease himself. He’s just about to type something else, anything else, when the phone rings.

###

“I’ve dropped my phone on my face three times,” Rebecca says when Nathaniel finally picks up. “Is it cool if we do things this way instead?”

“Uh, yeah,” Nathaniel says, sounding a little dumbfounded.

Rebecca smiles and scoots lower, hitching her right leg over the back of the couch and cradling her phone between the pillow, her shoulder, and her head.

There’s a beat of uncertainty where neither of them says anything, and doubt starts to creep up on her. Like, maybe this is a touch too real when it’s them talking—their actual voices actually alive in each other’s ears instead of stark and simple text.

But then Nathaniel releases this soft squeak of a pant that she wouldn’t have heard if she wasn’t holding her breath, and she feels feverishness overtake her, gets so suddenly hot her skin feels like it’s, well, charged with electricity.

“Am I to take that to mean you’re touching yourself?” Rebecca asks.

The noise Nathaniel makes this time is somewhere between muttered assent and a moan, and Rebecca laughs, adjusting the phone once more before sliding both her hands down into her underwear.

“Good,” she says, spreading herself open with one hand and running the fingers of the other over her slick skin, rekindling the steady burn she’d been feeling just a minute ago. “So am I.”

“Rebecca,” Nathaniel says, and she closes her eyes, savoring the texture of his gruff voice as it sinks into her ear.

“Hmm?” She prompts when he doesn’t say anything else after a second.

“I wish you were here right now. I wish I could touch you.”

“Dangerous,” Rebecca says automatically, even though she barely gave a second’s thought to indulging in this moment with him, even though she’s stoking the fire between her legs. Even though she wishes he was there right now, too.

“I could be gentle,” he says, his voice is pleading, and Rebecca feels lightheaded, feels her lungs burn with the haste of each shallow breath she takes. “I could take my time.”

“Don’t want gentle,” she says, swirling one pruny finger around her clit—not touching, just teasing herself with the phantom sensation of touch. Teasing herself with the idea of Nathaniel’s fingers…this is how he’d be touching her right now, she’s sure of it. “Not right now.”

Nathaniel grunts, and all of a sudden she can feel him pressed against her, can feel as he tucks his face into the crook of her neck and breathes in deep. As they had that morning, tingles fizz up Rebecca’s neck and drip down the crown of her head.

She lets go of a soft whine, and he takes in a sharp breath in response. Rebecca feels the pang of it in her own chest and slips a finger inside herself, trying to catch and trap the sensation.

“I can be gentle with you,” Nathaniel’s says, and Rebecca can hear that it costs him a bit of effort to get the words out, “and still fuck you.”

She lets out a laugh that’d started to build around the twinge deep in her chest as she slides her finger up to clit and draws tight, jerky circles, reveling in the easy slide, in the viscous friction.

“You’re a man of many talents, I can attest to that.”

“Rebecca.” It comes out all strained and begging.

She loses control over her movements, and her nails scrape across her over-alert skin. It sends quivers through her thighs; it sends warmth flooding low in her stomach. She can feel the dam starting to give way.

“Nathaniel,” she answers, but her mouth is dry and it comes out a desperate rasp.

“Fuck.”

“Me too,” she agrees, and she’s too close to form more complete thoughts, too close to be deliberate in her movements, too close to even breathe. She is a can of carbonated soda—if she just keeps shaking and shaking and shaking herself, eventually she’ll burst.

“Good,” he says. “I’m—fuck Rebecca—it’s a good thing you called. I wanna hear you…”

She offers a strangled hum of her agreement, hips canting up against her hand as she imagines him, naked and in bed and coaxing himself closer to the edge with every noise she makes.

An appreciative moan breaks free from the thickness in her throat.

And then Nathaniel takes in a deep, shuddering breath—like he knows she’s run out of air and he needs enough oxygen for both of them—and says “I’m—” before breaking off with a long, broken whine, and that’s the last of it.

She breaks open, a series of _Ah_ s gushing out of her as she loses touch with time and space for a blissful little infinity.

“You came,” he says, his voice a whisper.

“So did you,” Rebecca says, and then gasps as she applies gentle pressure to where her fingers still rest on her clit. She pulls her left hand free, though, and grabs hold of the phone before it slips down her face and into the couch cushions.

“And you’re going for round two?” Nathaniel asks.

Rebecca hears the smile in his voice and smiles sleepily back. “Mm, no, just prolonging my enjoyment of round one.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, listening to the sound of each other’s steadying breaths.

“That was…” Rebecca’s about to cut in and agree when Nathaniel finishes his thought, “That was okay, right?”

Rebecca feels a different kind of rushing warmth at the worry in his voice.

“That was so much more than okay,” she says.

He laughs, but there’s something hesitant about it.

“We got an A in C-plus adventures,” she says, letting her leg flop down from over the back of the couch and turning onto her side. She extracts her right hand from her underwear and wipes her fingers on the side of her thigh, eyes already drifting shut.

“Huh?” Nathaniel sounds far more alert than her.

“This was basically required for my recovery,” she says, hoping she’s explaining it right through the drunkenness and the endorphins and the _exhaustion_.

“Rebecca?”

“I’ll be back in town,” she says, and then has to pause for the yawn that’s overtaking her. “I’ll be back in a couple days.”

“Okay,” Nathaniel says, and Rebecca can hear the hope in his voice even through his obvious effort to disguise it.

She grins. “Okay.”

###

She doesn’t remember falling asleep. But when she wakes up a few hours later, the pressure in her bladder simply too much to ignore, the call is still connected.

She holds her phone up to her ear and listens to the stillness of Nathaniel’s room for a moment, wondering how long he’d listened to her until falling asleep himself. As she holds her breath to better catch any noise on the other end for the nth time that night, her mind wanders to adventures and then messiness.

She spares a fleeting thought for what Dr. Shin might have to say about the distinctly glittery feeling welling in her chest.

Then she hangs up.


End file.
